


Beginning of The End

by Miutinichisheno



Category: Dark Wolverine (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, This train wreck is just the poor life choices of Daken, What is dealing with emotions in a healthy manner?, combined with paranoia, lots of multiple universes BS, redemption arc, wibbly wobbly timey wimey BS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 04:51:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3314675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miutinichisheno/pseuds/Miutinichisheno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daken approaches the Jean Grey School unannounced and with a proposition for a deal. Safety for information. The staff unwillingly follow Logan's lead and hear him out. But when they hear the news he brings, they soon wish they hadn't.<br/>The events that unwind grow increasingly convoluted and they soon learn that each decision they make will determine the outcome of Daken's stay, the deal becoming more weighted on their side. But what isn't he telling them? What's got him constantly looking over his shoulder despite believing himself safe?<br/>But more importantly can they help or are they in over their head?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Weighted Bargaining - pROLOGUE

**Author's Note:**

> "Take my aggression as a gift to show us what we need to change  
> The thoughts we need to rearrange  
> Cause we're alright now
> 
> Here's my confession, though I don't bow to authority  
> Right and wrong are my left and right"  
> Running Out Of Time - Poets of the Fall

He'd approached the gates. The defences surprisingly hadn't been activated, though he'd heard the whirring secluded within the bushes. The gates didn't open for a long time even after he'd left his dullen message. The duffel bag and flashy sports car were hardly any indicator that this was a flying visit to exchange deep heartfelt apologies, though this was no doubt going to take some time.  
“I appreciate that I said I wanted to come in, but the longer you ignore me the less pleasant I may be. There's only so much rudeness a guest can tolerate before realising they're unwelcome.” Daken feigned offence, but of course he was just playing with them. 

“We're not letting him in.” Kitty scowled as she looked at the monitor. Bobby's arms folded as he shook his head.  
“I'm not the only one who doesn't think that he's really here to play happy families right?”  
“Of course he isn't. But we need to make a decision quickly, either we let him in and risk everyone, or we confront him and make sure he knows he's not welcome here.” Hank sighed, glancing at Logan skulking in the corner. “I know he plays the long game, Logan, and more reason to be careful with this but we've all been pulled from lessons for this and the students will want to know why we've put the grounds on lock-down.”  
Logan shifted, his nose wrinkled. The problem was they were all talking sense. He knew this was the worst idea ever and by all accounts he should be chasing the boy- man off. But hope was a treacherous and crippling notion. What if he wasn't playing tricks this time? The noise of the others speaking louder and getting more heated was becoming harder to ignore. But Daken didn't look himself. He wasn't dressed as impeccably as he usually prided himself on. That and the hair. He didn't have his trademark mohawk. An attempt had been made to sweep it back on one side, but it ended up resembling Logan's a bit, much the rest was pulled back into an unruly ponytail. And yet he seemed oddly at ease. No there was something else. He'd seen him this tense before and it wasn't an omen for anything good. There was a forced emptiness in his gaze. He wasn't looking at anything, too lost inside his own head.

“Here's what we're gonna do.” Logan grumbled. The teaching staff stopped their bickering and glanced back to him as he approached the monitor. He grabbed the com unit and cleared his voice. “Alright, son. You know we ain't buyin it. So, we'll meet each other halfway.”

“Ouh, how _generous_ of you daddy.”  
“We're doing no such-” Logan raised his hand, expression surprisingly placid as he silenced Kitty.  
“You can come in. We'll talk your demands, we'll let ours be known an' we'll go from there. Deal?”  
“You're being so amicable. I'm impressed, I can barely hear the sound of your colleagues righteous frothing at the mouth over your negotiation skills. Fine, you're on.” Daken laughed, stepping back to his car.  
“How does he not set your teeth on edge?”  
“Cause I learned to hide it.” Logan glanced back to the monitor as Daken blew a kiss to the camera. “We can only keep him waitin a little while before he'll get antsy. We're gonna do this like adults. This is gonna be diplomatic. Y'understand?”  
There was a silence that befell the faculty members, Ororo put her hand on Logan's shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze. She wasn't happy, but she hoped that something deeper had to be going on here. She also had to hope that he wasn't going to cause himself any unnecessary hurt.

 

Daken had been beelined to a secluded room out of the way of the daily bustle. Rachael was watching him intently, doing her utmost to psychically shield the room. There was a certain delinquent trying to probe for gossip, and Daken seemed all too aware.

“Do you normally have such an issue with his boundless curiosity?” He leant on his knuckles and shot her a sly smile. “Must be _quite_ the handful.”  
“Nothing we can't handle.”  
“I could teach him a lesson.” Daken laughed. “You must be aware of what I can do to psychics.”  
“All the more reason to not.”  
 _I'd give you a run for your money you smug dick._  
 _Of course you would dear. Is she aware you've gotten past her?_  
 _Not yet. So why are you here?_  
 _Reasons that are my own. Now run along, I doubt the Headmaster's going to be quite so forgiving knowing you're lingering. We'll catch up, I'm sure._  
 _Someone's treading carefully._  
 _As would you._

Daken looked up as Rachael's expression grew stonier. He'd cut Quentin off at just the right time.  
“That wasn't an invitation to try communicating with him.” Rachael growled.  
“I don't know what you're talking about, but there's no stopping the curiosity of a child.” Daken hummed lowly, returning his gaze to the knots in the wood panelling. The X-Mansion had undergone so many remodellings he was astounded they had the funding to use such high-quality materials. Where were they getting their funding? Still, not that it mattered. They could have all the money in the world and not be prepared for what was coming.  
The door opening with a bang roused him from his intent gaze at the décor. He feigned a lazy gaze to the X-men slowly filtering in. There was a noticeably large gap between him and where the others had sat. Logan was sat at the head of the table and Daken was sat near the window, absently gazing outside.

“Well this just looks like an intervention. Tell me Logan, what's got you so concerned about in my behaviour? Damaging habits? Self-destructive tendencies? Obsessive nature-”  
“That's enough.” He was short and sharp. An air of awkward silence settling in the room. Bobby was shifting uncomfortably. An exchange of glances between Hank and Ororo said it all. They were worried he was going soft in his old age. “Tell us why yer here.”  
“I'm not saying a word until I've got yours.”  
“What?”  
“My safety for my information.”  
“You've got to be kidding me.” Bobby looked down the table to Logan. "We're here to keep the kids safe, not harbour wanted criminals-"  
“You're an information broker?” Logan's brows dipped. “ _This_ is what you've been doin' all this time?”  
“Oh. And the _things_ I've uncovered in such a short time.” Daken's tone dipped. The sing song mocking dropped completely, Bobby's protests apparently going ignored. “You wouldn't believe how many people enjoy gloating about their secrets deep down. They want someone to acknowledge their achievements and pat them on the back.”  
“Get t'the point.”  
“Not yet. You said you would meet me halfway, what do I get out of this?”  
“Nothing.” Warbird snarled. “Your information could be but an illusion.”  
“It could be. But what do you think I am here for? To destroy the place? I'm not a petulant child throwing their toys out of the pram.”  
“Really now?” Rachael quirked a brow.  
“Then it appears that we are unable to reach a deal.” Daken placed his hands on the table and pushed his chair out, causing an obnoxious scraping. It was pointed and drawn out. “I would apologise for wasting your time, but I doubt you'd give me the same courtesy-”  
“Sit down.” Logan barked. “Alright. We all have our reservations. An that's understandable.”  
“Some more than others..” Bobby muttered.  
“But we're gonna come to an agreement.” He looked around the table, giving people a pointed look. “No matter how long it takes.”  
“I don't think your colleagues are as thrilled about the prospect as you.” Daken huffed and leant against the window frame. “I'm not going to show my entire hand if I have no insurance. That's not how I operate or how you should either. Give a little to get a little. Balance.”  
“You're a fine one to be preaching about balance.” Kitty rubbed her temples. “If what you have to tell us is so important, why can't you just tell us?”  
“Finally. An intelligent question.” Daken approached the table again as though he was explaining a plan. “So. From where Hank decided he was going to sodomise the time space continuum and generally upset the world order.” Hank shifted uncomfortably, “This has created the opportunity for the multiverse as we vaguely know it to start to blur together.”  
“We know this already Daken.”  
“I'm not finished yet. This means, that there are billions upon billions of possible universes that exist due to the different choices that we make. The fabric of time will split and divide accordingly. So.. Now think of the worst case scenario of _your_ decisions. What could have happened? Who could have died?” Logan's eyes were widening slowly. “Imagine who could have _lived_ and slipped through your fingers.”  
“Put the school on lock down.” Logan stood up.  
“Logan?” Ororo reached for his forearm. “Logan what's wrong?”  
“Are you _sure_?” His eyes locked with Daken. Daken didn't blink, but he also said nothing. He smelt something on him, unsettled and on edge. It had been present before but it had been getting more and more prevalent. Whatever this was, it'd shaken him to his core.  
“Increase the security, we're not t'alarm the students but no one is allowed off campus without escort. Are we clear?” Daken walked away from the table towards the door. The seed had been planted. “An' get Laura here.”

 


	2. Teething Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan makes an attempt at making grounds with Daken and Daken addresses the matter of his new found fan.

 

" _Double cross for a symbol_  
 _Name your rosary beads_  
 _You will nurture the_ fable _till it bleeds_  
 _Bleeds for your_ love"

Hounds to Harmatia - Poets of the Fall

 

Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, the students didn't appear to be too bothered about the sudden curfew implemented. But then again why would they be? The Jean Grey School for Higher Learning was almost as though it was within its own self-contained bubble. Their entire lives revolved around what was within the walls, educational or recreational. Perhaps Daken had judged this place too harshly beforehand. The terms of his stay were that he was to avoid mingling with the students for the time being. He was to leave once this was all done with. His movements were to be monitored. He may as well have been a prisoner within the School.  
And yet, it was better than being outside. Really, he couldn't complain. He had just about everything he could want, restrictions aside. But, he was safe. Now to start.  
Daken entered the en suite, his wrist claw popping out and set about to cut his hair. When he was younger he might have nicked his scalp, but he'd done this too many times. He ruffled his hair, working the style out before he started. The locks fell swiftly to the bathroom floor. He heard the door click in the other room. He knew the scent a mile off.

  
“You know you're supposed to knock first right?” He called.  
“I'll bear that in mind fer the future.” Logan glanced around, trying to pinpoint where Daken was. He heard a soft slice. The grazing of a razor on hair. The bathroom floor was left with a small blanketing of hair. His gaze travelled from the pile to Daken's feet, his bare calves, up his legs, his body and then to his face. The mohawk was back, his face not so obscured. He looked somewhat gaunt. Skinnier than he remembered. Now he could get a better look at him, even if he was claiming to have been doing fine, something suggested he wasn't. But with his support did he feel more confident about the matter?  
“It never looked good any other way.” Daken uttered, absently watching Logan mystified by cutting his own hair.  
“Not questioning ya.” He paused, mulling over words. Phrasing and terms were vital with Daken. One wrong word could set him on the offensive. It shouldn't have been such a headache to have just a single conversation. Let alone whilst he was contentedly stood around in his underwear. “Y'sure it's him?”  
“There's something.. different.” He uttered, “When he was in power the 'underworld' had an air of fear and chaos to it and yet there was some bizarre semblance of structure about it. When he disappeared people tried to structure it their way. Things settled, but it wasn't so regimented.”  
Logan hummed and nodded, leaning against the door frame facing into the bedroom rather than the bathroom. He had to give Daken some form of peace.  
“Y'sure you're not bein' skittish?”  
“I was left a note.”  
“What?”  
“I know, I rarely get hand written letters any longer, let alone something so cult-ish.”  
“You got it?”  
“It's in the satchel. Let me know when your blood runs cold, it'll make this all the quicker.”

The letter was simple. A hand print with familiar large claws and writing. TRAITOROUS MONGREL. Logan grimaced at the note. The corners were slightly charred.  
“What happened?”  
“Well, not long after receiving this passive aggressive letter, my condo was blown to bits. Can't help but get the bizarre hunch that the two are related for one reason or another.” Daken emerged, pulling his shirt back on. “Can't think _why_.”  
“Y'made yer point.” Logan set the note down. Daken was right, his blood had run cold. “And you think whoever sent this is gonna come fer me too?”  
“This isn't me looking out for you.” Daken pulled his expensive-looking jeans on. Tailor made no doubt, and yet they still didn't seem to fit quite right. “You'll also be in the line of fire, I'm watching my six by making sure all angles are covered.”  
“You're doin an awful lot of runnin scared.” Logan glanced back to the letter. Noting to himself that Daken wasn't really making any form of prolonged eye contact. “Y'sure, you're sure it's him.”  
“It's a possibility. But there's always been lingering groups that were loyal to him. Desperate to keep their place without his influence.”  
“They kept clear o'me.”  
“Possibly out of a sense of reverence. They've been waiting for you to lift the gauntlet. After all. He said _you_ were to be his successor.” There was a hint of bitterness in his tone. _Years. Years endured to be nothing but a pet._.  
“I ain't doin it.”  
“ _I'm_ not expecting you to. Nevertheless something needs to be done. This is either a group that have gotten cocky, which I doubt, or they've become bold for one reason or another. Why would a cult become cocksure, after all this time, when their leader's disappeared?”  
“Their leader's returned, or someone's taken up the role.”  
“Exactly.” Logan grimaced. He had been sure that Romulus wouldn't have been able to escape the negative zone, not after Cloak had been of assistance. “Yes, now you see why I'm so concerned.”  
“A'rite. You're definitely not goin' anywhere.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“I can't keep an eye on you if you're out wanderin. You've never been one t'share your plans, an I ain't about to think you're gonna start now.”  
“They may have been the initial terms but you said they would change. I'm not going to go from living under one thumb to another-”  
“I don't know what he's taught you over the years or whatever he said t'you. But I'm _not_ him. You're not a _prisoner_ , I'm just..” Logan growled and scratched the back of his neck. _Two emotionally stunted men of violence having to discuss emotions. Wonderful._ “I'm trying to guarantee your safety like you wanted. I don' know what you expected.”  
“Perhaps too much. I wonder if I'd gone to the Avengers they'd turn me into a muzzled trophy.” He knew they wouldn't have given him the time of day Logan had. He'd deliberately gone for the emotional blackmail. Logan was weak and always wanted to try and fix their relationship. Something he could exploit. But he wasn't a fool either. He knew what Logan was capable of. “Maybe I should ask them as a backup.”  
“Y'think I'm not going to go to them with this?”  
“No. I don't actually.” Daken finally stood upright and pulled on his waistcoat. “You haven't even told your faculty about what's going on. I doubt you're going to tell them. You keep your dirty laundry hidden from the world and this is by far the dirtiest bundle you've got stashed.”  
“You'd do the same.”  
“I'm at least strategic about my reservations. Yours are based solely on pride.” _That's right get him wound up, make this his fault and he'll be trying that much harder to make it up to you. Find the wound. Bite down, tear, shake, rip. Cruel. Merciless._  
“I don't want to drag innocent people into my messes.” Logan bit back, shoulders squared as he looked Daken dead in the eye. “I ain't into collateral damage. I'm puttin everyone here at a risk by bringing you in, because I know as well as you how much he's gonna want you back. Both of us. I care about the potential lives that are in the firing line.”

 

The silence fell once again. Perhaps Daken had lost his touch over the years. That edge he used to have over Logan had been pulled thin once too many times. Had he over done it? Did he need to find something else to exploit?  
They looked between each other for an uncomfortably prolonged period of time. Both too proud to be the one to break the silence or glare. Too much time had been spent playing mind games. Or maybe this was all entirely down to the way Romulus wanted it to be for them. Opposing forces that would only clash together and never work in harmony.  
“I am aware I'm selfish.” Daken finally spoke in carefully measured tones. “It's what's kept me alive all these years. Unless you have anything further you wish to discuss, this conversation is over.”  
“That so?”  
Daken huffed, “If you won't discuss how to go forward with this then we have little else to say.”  
“I want to keep you out of the firing line. Whenever a conversation isn't goin your way you can't just walk away. We're not talkin' business right now. This isn't a transaction.”  
“Well that's too bad because we both know that's being idealistic. And I'm not going to sit on my hands. I won't be a passive party in this.” Daken clenched his fist, looking down at his nails. “I walk away because I realise that I made an error in judgement and look to do it myself.”  
“You came to me for safety-”  
“Safety in numbers. This won't be like the last time we went after him.”  
“Won't it?”  
“You don't understand why I did it.”  
“You were scared. An y'didn't have yer head on right.” Logan shook his head. How could he forget that train wreck? Simultaneously trying to kill Logan and Romulus so he could inherit his empire. Daken had been trying to keep changing his plan on the fly. It was improvisation around one desired outcome. Keeping his head above water whilst being ahead of them both. Perhaps that hadn't been so hard with Logan, but he had been playing a dangerous game with Romulus. The monster had raised Daken, he had to have known exactly what he was doing. Big him up and knock him down in the same breath. At least it made sense where Daken had picked up the habit for finding structure within chaos. He thrived in the heat of the moment, but so it was becoming apparent that being stagnant made him uneasy. “An now it's quiet but you know somethin's comin you're doin the same thing all over again. But you aren't the arrogant little shit you used t'be.”  
“I've learned how to be cautious-”  
“You're anxious and unsure.”

He had Daken's back against the wall. Logan hadn't realised that slowly his son had been backing away quite literally until he couldn't retreat any further. Maybe making him feel like he was on the ropes and fighting off accusations wasn't the best idea. But, damn it, he was going to set things right between them. They were supposed to be working together, but before they could be effective he'd have to make sure they were on the same page. Logan exhaled slowly, taking the time to count to ten.  
“Y'need to trust me or this ain't gonna work.”  
“You'd be cautious if you knew what I know.” Barely above a whisper.  
“Then tell me.”  
“Not yet.”  
Logan clenched and unclenched his fists, counting backwards and then forwards once more. Riddles. Always with the same riddles and mind games. Maybe what he was seeing now was the direct result of it all – sucked into his own games. Too many lies woven and now he had to keep track of it all, treading just that little bit too carefully that it was now blatantly obvious. He'd 'written' himself into a corner.  
“What can you tell me?”  
“What I am doing now, _daddy,_ is watching and waiting.” Daken's brows dipped, visibly bristling. He valued his personal space and the fact that the distance between them was rapidly depleting made his skin crawl. Closeness was something that would only ever be permitted upon his terms. “I need to know the right time to make my move. When it comes I'll tell you what I can.”  
It was in that moment that Logan felt that there was confirmation that Daken was up to his old tricks. He was trying to play both sides. Monitoring both but favouring one over the other.  
“He's gotten t' you hasn't he?”  
Daken laughed. It rattled in him, hollow and yet filled with a thousand possibilities. Logan couldn't tell if he was nervous, bitter, distressed, angry or nostalgic. Daken's shoulders sagged, looking as though for a few moments he didn't know what to do with himself. Anxiety again.  
“If he had. You'd know.” His eyes narrowed, puffing his chest finally. “When I know more, you will. Likewise if you find out anything, tell me. Until that point I'll continue being the good little house guest and keep out of everyone's sight.”  
“You're not part of my 'dirty laundry' kid.”  
“Some of them are itching for a fight. I'm not entertaining anyone's vigilantism. Besides, I've mastered the art of blending into a crowd.”  
“You gotta have somethin to do.”  
“As this past conversation may have proven, we can't be within the vicinity of each other for prolonged periods of time without getting upset with one another. So please don't suggest that we mend old fences.” Daken opened his room door. Though he stopped and cocked his head, glancing back over his shoulder. An afterthought. “Granted, this could have been much messier. Maybe we won't be the ones to kill one another after all.”

 

He closed the door behind him, leaving Logan alone, surrounded by the trinkets and odds and ends Daken had already begun decorating his room with. It has a distinct modern feel. Minimalist and yet cluttered in a way. Everything has a place, what's left of it. Logan knows the feeling of having your life and worldly possessions stuffed in a bag that goes everywhere with you. But by the looks of the state of some of the things, he'd tried to salvage a few items from the explosion of the condo. He picks up a heavily chipped carving of an obsidian dragon. It's missing its tail, a horn and a few teeth. And yet he'd still gone to the effort of polishing it and maintaining what he could. Not long ago Daken didn't practice getting attached to material things, and yet here he was, personalising his room. Funny how something normal was so surprising to him. There weren't any pictures or photographs framed, nothing to pertain to his personal life, nothing but symbols. It really was a perfect look into his head, maybe he hadn't even realised what he'd done.  
Logan shouldn't really have been snooping around his room he knew, and yet if Daken had a problem then he would have ushered him out when he'd left. He could.. get to understand him like this? It was entirely possible that was exactly what Daken had hoped he'd do, being fully aware of just how nosy he was capable of being. Easier than expressing himself or having to talk about it. It was all so simple it felt stupid. But just how detached from normal were they really for something so basic to be so round about and awkward? All he could do was hope that they had time.

 

\----------

 

As much as he claimed it was easy to blend into crowds, and really it wasn't as hard as people said it was. It was however easier if you weren't the subject of rumours and current gossip. With each corridor it felt like more and more eyes fell upon him, more students huddled together and whispering. He could hear all of them, but if he'd bother to tune himself in then perhaps he could stand a chance of actually giving a damn. He wanted peace and quiet. Daken shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way towards the library. Libraries were supposed to be quiet places of learning and education right? As unconventional as the school may have been they couldn't have been _that_ unconventional.  
Thankfully they weren't. The whispering was much less obnoxious as he slipped into the deeper corners, examining the shelves to work out the ordering. Admittedly it wasn't as awful as he was concerned it may have been. He filled his arms with a varying few books that caught his attention, they'd last him a few days if that. Distractions were what he needed. Something to allow him escape for a few hours at a time in a day. Switch off, shut everything out, give him some time to just _be_.   
As he grabbed for the spine of the last book of interest he found it was refusing to move. It couldn't have been stuck as it had room to rest against the book to it's left a moment ago. His brows dipped as he let go of it. It then shifted forward a smidge like it'd been pushed from the other side. Daken grabbed the book once more and yanked it out. He glanced back to the hole left and on the other side of the shelf was a somewhat freckled face and offensively pink glasses.

  
“I can't help but wonder two things.” Daken quirked a brow.  
“Oh?”  
“You're either stalking me. Or you're trying to irresponsibly get in the way of my reading time. Neither have good results, choose wisely.”  
“You need to try harder.”  
“To avoid you or reading?” Daken put the book back into its slot with a shove and walked away from the shelf. “Because if I really wanted to disappear then you of all people wouldn't have a hope to find me.”  
“This whole 'I'm a dark tragic tormented soul' act you've got going. You're laying it on way too thick.” Quentin followed suit, emerging from the other aisle.  
“Quentin, you cannot be here trying to lecture me on the delicacies of psychological warfare.” Daken huffed. He was amused, but not with Quentin. At him. “Psychic you may be, but I haven't heard sagas of your acclaimed abilities.”  
“I may be a flashy kinda guy, but some things are better kept on the down low.” And yet he still followed him, with that amused little smirk. Thinking he was so edgy for daring to approach the big bad new resident. He was such a child, and as amusing as he could be, Daken didn't have the energy for it right now.  
“Preaching to the choir.” He rolled his eyes as he dropped unceremoniously into a bean bag chair. It was right by the large ornate window. The sun pouring through and positioned in the sky where he'd get a good several hours of light and warmth from it. “Look, unless you spontaneously reveal that you are actually Loki, there is nothing you can teach me I don't already know.”  
“You haven't seen the best ways to push his buttons.” Quentin adjusted his glasses, that devious little smirk.  
“You may want a kick out of giving Logan grey hairs, I've got bigger fish to fry.” Daken opened the book, making it a point to attempt to start reading it. “Besides, you're not supposed to get involved with me in any shape or form. I wonder how it would look if I reported _you_ for harassment?”  
“That'll change quickly, you and I know that.” Quentin settled against one of the desks, palms laid flat. He looked relaxed and yet Daken knew better. More games. He was testing him, gauging him. Keep distance, give him nothing. “Besides, proving that you can play nice might make things easier for you.”

He exhaled and set the book down, slamming it shut. His lips were pursed as he glared up at the arrogant youth. It almost hurt how much he was reminded of himself so many years ago. It was all a game. All the time in the world so no need to grow up. Be as annoying as possible, it was all to get a reaction. So what was this? Use his methods against him? Make a point?  
“And as pleasant it would be if it were that easy, it wouldn't be. Like you, they are aware of my tactics.”  
“So why were you sweating like a sinner in church when you arrived yesterday?” Daken's jaw tightened as Quentin had obviously realised that he'd caught onto something bigger. “What's so big and bad that you come running to your estranged father?”  
“It's long before your time.”  
“I've spent ten years in cryo. It probably isn't.”  
Daken sucked on his teeth, at least he didn't have to be so concerned about verbally abusing a minor. By all rights Quentin should have been a young adult. Kid gloves were off.

“I understand, you want to know what's going on. But I'm not going to play nicely with the next little shit that Logan decided that he'd play father figure to. If you have something to offer to me that I don't already know, then bargain with it. I won't start frothing at the mouth for the prospect you know something I don't. It may work on others, but it won't with me. So cut me a reasonable deal or fuck off.”

Quentin's brow quirked as he watched Daken for a moment or two. Even if Daken was supposed to be a closed book, there were an awful lot of emotions that floated near the surface. But, he also knew there was every chance that was completely intentional. Quentin had never really met Daken, just heard of him, Evan had mentioned him a lot when he'd been rescued by the X-Force. But he'd found fragments of memories that would rise to the surface whenever Logan was giving him one of his fabled heart to heart talks. There was no mistake that Logan saw a lot of Daken in him. It was sating his curiosity. That no matter what Daken did somehow Logan would find some justification to forgive him or let it slide.  
“He sees something in you and wants to be able to forgive you. I'm trying to work out if I should batten down the hatches and wait for fallout, or if you're being genuine.”  
“Please. Indulge me.” Total monotone. His face was buried in the book once more.  
“I'm doing what you do. Waiting and seeing.”

Daken glanced up over his book, eyelids lowered. It was all about the show, plant a seed and see what happened. Now who was playing both sides? Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a somewhat familiar off grey tone. The scent was unforgettable. They were being watched, the scent of fear and anger lingering. Had the Apocalypse child and Kid Phoenix become friends? Of course Logan would try to avert the inevitable like that.  
“I think your boyfriend is concerned you may be cheating on him.” He cocked his head towards Evan. They made eye contact for a split second. The boy's mouth pressed into a firm line before he carried on towards the front desk once more.  
“Can you blame him for being unnerved about you?”  
“I notice how you didn't correct me. And no, but I'm not going to bite.” Daken returned to flicking pages. He'd given up trying to read but he'd have hoped it'd get the point across.  
“My affilation for pink should be some kind of signal that I don't really give much of a shit about social norms.” _Besides, he is cute. In that wilting flower kinda way._  
 _I notice how you don't want him hearing you now. Telling._  
 _He's skittish, if I was talking so openly about it he'd probably hide away for the rest of his life. That and.. well given how things are supposed to go._  
 _How considerate. Thank you for the ammo._  
“I'll just deny it.”  
“If you've thought about it, there's every chance that you haven't been subtle.”  
 _Have you seen his mouth though?_  
“That's called objectification.”  
“And you see why I'm not saying anything.”  
“All I see is a teenage sexual awakening trying to happen via trial by fire. Are we done?”  
“For now.”  
“I think I hear your boyfriend pining for you.”  
“Very funny.”

Quentin did admittedly disappear from sight quicker than anticipated. What in the hell did he find so fascinating about him? He was deliberately being about as interesting as watching paint dry. Maybe he was smarter than he first assumed. After all, he got past Rachael without drawing attention, maybe he'd been poking around. No, he'd have known. And Logan would have probably instilled the importance of a person's privacy into him.  
But still. He'd keep an eye on the little shit.

 

" _This meant more to you than it did to me_

 _I was full of doubt and you believed_  
 _The more that you keep coming over_  
 _The more I know it's over, dear_  
 _We're just a box of_ souvenirs"  
  
Panic Cord - Gabrielle Aplin

 

 


End file.
